


An Unintended Reunion

by Tempore



Series: I am Sirius, so quit calling me Shirley. [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Death, Multi, Smut, post-battle aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 07:52:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17804027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tempore/pseuds/Tempore
Summary: In the early morning hours after the Battle of Hogwarts, a visit to the quidditch pitch brings some temporary distraction.





	An Unintended Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Just a wee side snippet that may or may not end up part of a larger George-centric story. Takes place in the same universe of And So Life Goes On.

### May 2, 1998 Early Morning Hours, Hogwarts

#### George

They’ve lost track of Charlie, Bill and Fleur as slowly, they all drift apart to connect with others and count their losses. George and Fred had stayed with their family for a few hours, but Ginny is doing a much better job of caring for their mum than they ever could, so they leave them to it. 

Their dad is off with Kingsley and several other ministry workers. Ron disappeared with Hermione (and, they suspect, Harry) a while ago. 

It’s on the tip of George’s tongue to say something about their torrid threesome, but he holds it back. Fred would probably laugh, but Hermione is still a bit of a sore spot for him, even if he pretends otherwise. Any other time and George probably would do it anyway, but to say it’s been a rough night is the understatement of the century. 

It is all very surreal. There is a sense of giddiness that hangs over the Great Hall, a combination of sleep deprivation and exhaustion from the battle along with the disbelief that the war is over. There are pockets of grief, too, which seem to ebb and flow as they all take stock and the names of the dead and injured get passed around. 

They pass the Patil twins, Padma holding Parvati’s hand while they talk to Dean and Seamus. Parvati’s face is tear-streaked and he remembers hearing Lavender’s name among the casualties. 

George isn’t numb exactly, but after a while, the names - even the ones of people he knows - seem to wash over him. 

Percy is dead. 

Grief is a funny thing. He’s sure it’s going to hit him hard later, but right now, it’s like he’s on emotional overload and so he just can’t feel any of it without the other emotions trying to crowd in. It’s like potions, where two or more strong ingredients can have a neutralizing effect. 

They drift over toward where Oliver is regaling Lee and the girls with some quidditch-based tale. All they’d need is Harry - or Charlie - and they’d have the full quidditch team back together. 

That thought is a spot of cheer holding back the darkness that keeps threatening to close in on him and is enough that, when Fred sits down on the end of one bench, rather than go around next to Katie, George squeezes in against his brother. He needs the contact.

Angelina’s eyebrows raise, but she says nothing, merely scoots over a little more. Oliver tells them about life as a professional quidditch player, which sounds a lot like his life at Hogwarts, only with fewer tests. 

“Well, there are other perks,” Oliver says, eyes twinkling. “The girls, for one.” 

“Wait, you like girls?” Alicia asks, eyes wide in faux shock. “I thought you were quidditch-sexual.” 

“I am,” Oliver says. “But there are a fair few girls that play quidditch professionally.” 

Lee high fives him while the others laugh. George quirks his lips in an attempt at a smile, but he doesn’t feel like laughing. Neither does Fred. He can tell the others notice, but they don’t comment. It’s not that they haven’t lost anyone - Katie keeps tearing up and Alicia has an arm around her, her own eyes lost and uncomprehending in a way George has never seen. 

“How does the pitch look?” Oliver asks suddenly. “Do you think it survived?” 

And so they all end up trooping down to the field to check out the damage. In the dark, it’s hard to see if there's any damage at all. There are no bodies, at least - those have been cleared away, though there are a few patches where the smell of blood and burned flesh reach them. They sidestep around them carefully. George rubs his eyes hard enough to feel them sting; they’re a bit red and swollen anyway. 

Fred takes his hand silently as they stand in the middle of the quidditch pitch. The others talk about the various plays they’ve made; nostalgia creeping in, but he just looks at the sky. Above, the stars twinkle where the cloud cover breaks. He feels someone else take his other hand and glances over at Angelina. He brings it up to his lips and kisses it, feeling vaguely foolish but can’t bring himself to care. In the Fred and George tally of stupid, silly things, it doesn’t even rate in the top thousand. 

Oliver and Katie disappear for a few minutes and come back with quidditch gear. 

“I think the reunion match is going to have to wait,” Fred says as they approach. 

“Though with Cho, we do make a complete team,” Katie observes. “But that’s not why we brought it out.” 

The robes smell of sweat and dust. They haven’t been used this year at all and it shows. Cho grabs Harry’s robes and transfigures them into a blanket. George wants to laugh at the way she does that so matter of factly. Oliver plonks himself down on it, making her squawk in protest, but he pulls her down to sit with him. The others do the same, creating a pile of blankets and pillows from their old numbers. 

Cho and Katie talk quidditch. They’d both tried out for a quidditch team and they’d made the farm team. It’s not quite elite level, not like Oliver is playing, but it’s something. 

“And we actually play more games,” Katie teases Oliver. “You’re still spending most days in reserve.” 

“Not anymore,” Oliver says. “McBannon got brained again. Her wife put her foot down and said “no more, before she loses the rest of her speech” so she’s quit and I’m now the official keeper for Puddlemere United.” 

“That’s incredible news, mate,” George says. “You’ll get us some box tickets to one of your games, won’t you?” 

“As long as you don’t root for the other team,” Oliver replies, grinning. 

“Unlike Ronnikins, we’ve always been Puddlemere fans.” 

Ron’s poor, misguided taste in the Chudley Cannons gains a few laughs as people remember it. 

Now that they’re outside, George feels a little bit lighter, like the weight of all the grief and excitement isn’t pressing down on his chest. This far away, they can’t hear the noise or see the Great Hall. There are lights here and there throughout the castle, but on this part of the quidditch pitch, which smells only of wet earth, they seem to be in a protective bubble of their own. 

Angelina is a warm presence tucked against his right side, her braids scratching lightly against his neck where she’s laid her head. Lee is lying on his side using her thigh as a pillow. Cho sits between Oliver’s legs, her back to his chest, and she’s rubbing one of his thighs. Oliver does not look as if he minds in the least, his chin propped on her shoulder and arm wrapped around her waist while he talks.

George wonders when that happened, or if it’s brand new. He’d certainly never seen Oliver look so relaxed and easy around women before. Then again, it has been a while since they’ve hung out. The girls are the ones who keep in touch with everyone. 

“Do you think we really got all the death eaters?” Katie asks quietly. 

“It seems like it’s too good to be true,” Oliver responds. “But for now, any sympathizers will be laying low.” 

“Wankers,” Fred says on principle from George’s left. 

George turns his head in time to see Fred wince as he shifts his weight. Fred has a bandage across his face and one sticking out of his waistband. He’ll scar, because his injuries weren’t Madame Pomfrey’s priority and they couldn’t find any dittany to help with the healing. 

Pomfrey had informed them she couldn’t keep it stocked enough over the year, what with the Carrows’ favorite activities. Then with the battle, what little she had left didn’t last. 

Fred doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that he’ll scar, but it’s one more thing that now distinguishes them. Their days of easily swapping back and forth are over. 

“There’s always polyjuice,” Fred says quietly, still able to read what he’s thinking even when no one else can. 

The knowledge that Fred could have been hurt so much worse washes over him in a wave. George feels dizzy from it, but Angelina squeezes his thigh and after a moment, he pushes it away. 

Katie is mirroring Angelina’s position across from them. She’d always had a bit of hero worship for Ange. Not surprising; Angelina is a queen amongst women and should be looked up to. Alicia doesn’t seem to mind Katie’s weight leaning on her; in fact, given the way her lips are slightly parted, she’s quite enjoying Katie’s hand on the inside of her thigh. 

And just as George notices that he notices the shift in the energy among them all. He doesn’t mind at all. Angelina’s hand feels good where it rubs on the inside of his thigh though she’s still nodding along to whatever it is that Cho is saying. Oliver isn’t; his hand has slipped inside Cho’s robes and he’s clearly fondling her breast. Cho speaks on as if this is a common occurrence, but her breath hitches just slightly on a stutter and it gives her away. She finishes the story and silence settles in. 

Angelina turns her head, looking up at him. George doesn’t hesitate; he kisses her. The angle is a bit awkward, but she meets his tongue with her own and a little, pleased hum. 

Lee starts to move, but Angelina grabs a fistful of his hair and leans over to kiss him as well. George watches, fascinated, as the two of them explore each other’s mouths. Lee has finally gotten over his crush on her, but no one in their right mind would turn down the opportunity to snog Angelina. George certainly isn’t. 

He rubs his knuckles up her arm and gets a shiver for his troubles. The kiss breaks and she turns back to him again. 

They shift around, the three of them snogging. George doesn’t discriminate between Angelina and Lee; both are good kissers, though Lee is more aggressive while Angelina does this thing with her tongue against his that makes George’s prick stand at attention. 

It sounds like Cho and Oliver are well on their way toward naked, and when George glances over, he can see Fred pushing his hand up under Katie’s blouse while she and Alicia snog. 

Alicia breaks the kiss and Fred pulls Katie’s robes over her head. Katie, the minx, isn’t wearing a bra, and Alicia takes full advantage of this, diving to get her mouth on one breast and a good handful of the other, while Fred looks on over her shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind, especially when Katie worms her hand back between them. 

There’s a moment where he wonders if this is all really happening, but as many times as he’s wanked to the idea of Angelina (and Lee a few times for that matter), he’s never actually been able to get so deeply into it that he’d imagine the way her braids scratch his skin and tickle ever so lightly. But then, the whole night seems like a terrible dream. Nothing seems real, and even if (especially if) it’s just a dream, there’s no reason to put a stop to it. 

A hand on his flies pulls George back to his own affairs. Angelina and Lee are both tugging at his robes. George has long suspected Lee might be flexible when it comes to gender and might also harbor the tiniest bit of attraction toward him and his twin. 

This is confirmed in the way Lee rubs up against him, sucking his way down George’s jaw to his neck. Since George is himself flexible, he’s going to take the opportunity presented. 

Angelina pushes George onto his back and straddles him, rubbing up against him as they snog. She breaks off when Lee shuffles up, his flies open, his absolutely gorgeous cock hard and heavy in his hand. George groans with Lee when Angelina leans down and takes it in her mouth. 

“Merlin, that’s hot.” The words, whispered quietly so as not to break the bubble they’re in, still seem loud to his ears. But Lee just makes a strangled sound of agreement, which turns to a long, drawn-out moan when George reaches out and starts tugging at his bollocks. 

The order of events gets blurry, but George gets a taste of both Lee’s cock and Angelina’s perfect cunt before she pushes him down again and guides him into her. She’s hot, wet and so tight he throws his head back against the wet grass. He’s going to have mud and grass stains in his hair, but they’re all covered in soot and dust, cuts and bruises. 

There’s skin against his arm and a loud moan in his ear, the one that’s half-missing. He twists his head to the side to see Oliver also on his back right next to him. Cho’s riding him as well, facing Angelina. As they watch, the girls lean in and kiss. Cho reaches out and brushes her fingers over Angelina’s nipple; George catches the other one in his hand and Angelina whines, arching her back a bit more and shifting the angle she’s bouncing on him just a little bit. 

George catches Oliver’s eye and they both smirk. 

He’s lost track of Lee until he feels Angelina stiffen and shift, slumping forward and bracing herself on her arms either side of George’s head. He realizes when he starts feeling her constricting against his cock, feels the intrusion through her walls, just what Lee is doing. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. For a moment, he thinks Angelina is going to say no and pull away, but she ducks her head and breathes hard. A second later, he feels her try to relax and Lee’s cock slides in a little more, pressing hard against George’s own cock through that thin barrier. 

Angelina pants loudly in his face and keens when Lee starts working himself inside her arse in short, sharp thrusts. It feels absolutely amazing from where George is lying. He’s not sure how he’s holding out from orgasming; only that he is because he’ll be damned if he comes first in this group. 

Above, the stars twinkle. The sounds of sex surround him and he can pick out Freddie’s groans nearby. After so many years of sharing a bedroom, the sound is as familiar as his own breathing. 

Once Lee has finally buried himself balls deep in Angelina, she commands them both to move. Oliver is muttering under his breath while Cho makes a low keening sound. 

He can hear the slapping of flesh from over where Fred is and looks around to see Fred taking Katie from behind while she eats Alicia out. For some reason, it’s that sight that gets to him most; Fred rolling his hips in circles, really driving Katie mad if the way she’s moaning against Alicia’s cunt is any indication. 

Oliver grunts once, then stills; Cho whines, “So close,” and Oliver presses his thumb against her clit, making her come not long after. 

Angelina is next; she’s not vocal about it, but she stops breathing and stiffens, her nails biting into George’s bicep. Lee follows and the sensations are too much; George goes right behind him. Orgasms are always great, but this one is pretty over the top. He spends a few minutes just breathing hard and trying to refocus as Lee pulls out with a squelchy noise and Angelina grunts. She pulls off him right after and flops to his side, her head propped on George’s bicep, breathing like she's run several laps around the quidditch pitch. 

Sated, they all lazily watch Fred, Katie and Alicia for the next minute or so until Katie comes, setting off Fred. Then, the two of them work Alicia over together, bringing her off shortly. 

Exhaustion and heartache seem to be creeping into George’s consciousness with the dawn. Fred looks over and reaches out his hand; George grasps it. And with the frantic coupling (can it truly be called coupling if there were seven people involved?) complete, the dreamlike state recedes and reality sets in once again. They have survived the night, but the first rays don’t feel like hope, not to him. Not yet. They have too many people to bury. 

Oliver is still lying with his eyes closed, but Angelina sits up, biting her lip in clear worry, pressing her robes against her breasts. “We should go. I need my bed.” 

“We all do,” Oliver says after a few moments, with a sigh. He stands up and offers a hand to Cho. 

They dress with few words; Lee offers to escort Angelina home but she demurs, leaving with Katie and Alicia. George waves goodbye to Cho and Oliver, who wander off toward the gates a few yards behind the girls, while Fred links his arm through Lee’s and says, “We’ve been friends for this many years, and I never knew you had a dick fit for a porno? I’m hurt.” 

Lee snickers and George catches up, taking his other arm. He points up to where Gryffindor Tower stands solid and undamaged, a few lights on in the windows. “Let’s go see if Fellona will let us crash in our old beds.”


End file.
